Idols
by Modwolf
Summary: Morning!Kutner has a vivid imagination. A VERY vivid imagination. House/Kutner; title has absolutely nothing to do with the story what so ever. HUTNER FOR THE WORLD!


Mornings were a lot like getting massages from gorgeous women with the joyful anticipation of a happy ending. You felt relaxed, comfortable, generally pleasant about your being, and even a _mediocre_ blowjob would be the cherry on top of the ice cream sundae.

Though then of course, much like massages (and ice cream sundaes), sleep too had to come to an end. Often much too soon and often without the slightest _hint _of sexual release, but always with that same, bitter taste of waking up alone.

Though of course, Kutner was not the hopeless type.

Just in the freaking _morning._

This one was no exception, as he awoke by the oh-so-rhythmic sound of his alarm clock strangling a chicken and all members of Metallica at the same time. Throwing his hand on top of it and in the same move virtually throwing himself across the wide bed in order to reach it, his second thought of the day became the plain lack of people to make this move more or less impossible by lying next to him as he woke up. This thought had started to occur to him bordering on annoyingly often. Especially in the morning; and especially as he felt his own humble erection press to the mattress as he laid flung across it for a few seconds, quietly deciding on whether to deal with it then and there, simply ignore it or see if it would go away in the shower. He bitterly chose the latter.

A few minutes or so of building hope for a brand new day later he stepped into the shower; the liquid that immediately rolled down his bare back for the first couple of seconds cold enough to wake him from the dead as he gasped and cursed all of humanity for making him get up this early in the morning. Then – thankfully – he felt the water grow warmer and warmer as his goose-pimples appeared to calm back down to the rhythm of his self-soothing breaths. For moments he stood without even reaching for soap or shampoo, merely rolling his head from side to side and settling into the rising heat of the water running down his body; his face briefly tilted upwards, hundreds of beads crashing onto his features, his closed eyes, his parted lips, running all the way down his throat, chest, stomach; his head tipped back down and his eyes suddenly reopened as the clear, hot liquid reached his still hard cock, dripping continually down his warm thighs. Closing his eyes again briefly, he casually drew his right hand from the soap shelf and instead slid it down his abdomen and around his mild erection, moving in a lazy rhythm as he again felt the water pound his slightly parted lips as he tilted his head back again, focusing on the usual wet, warm, tight pressure, focusing on soft, large and squeezable, focusing on the newly risen hairs along his arms, along his back, his mind suddenly wandering distantly into the closest memory he had of someone causing that and – his brow furrowing slightly but his hand continuing to move – immediately found himself recalling House, that time last week when he had made him coffee and how the look House had given him had created these shivers all over his body for no detectable reason what so ever. House's face still before his closed eyes and his left hand now supporting him as he leaned slightly forwards towards the cold, tiled wall, Kutner continued to move his hand around his now considerably harder cock, just ever so briefly playing with the idea of House entering the shower. His heart pounding loudly as the door shut behind him, the building anticipation of each second that passed and nothing happened created a sensation of near-tachycardia; his breaths increasing in force and pace as they crashed against the tiles before him – stopping so very suddenly as House's breath touched the back of his neck, stroking his skin, teasing it, the water trickling down along his shoulders and arms so very, very light a sensation in comparison as warm, strong, dominant hands slid down along his hips and a heaving chest pressed to his shivering back, causing his head to turn sideways, trying to catch House's breaths as he was kept steady in place, hand moving already frustratingly slowly around his hard cock as the exhales travelled round the side of his throat, his cheek, the tip of House's nose brushing Kutner's as their breaths intermingled like deep, hard thuds to each other's lips, House's unshaven chin to Kutner's soft skin and at once it became physically unbearable not to touch him back. Both hands immediately to House's neck, Kutner spun around, pushing the other man up against the shower wall as their hot mouths pressed to each other like nymphomaniacs on death row, kissing hard and fast and so intensely there seemed no limit to the deep, hard waves of pleasure moving through Kutner's body as it pressed to House's, the latter's hands incomprehensibly pleasantly sliding firmly down the former's wet back and then smacking his taut, bare ass to the immediate gasp and moan issuing from Kutner's parted, aching lips that immediately returned to House's as if too hungry for the other man to ever get enough of his kisses, hands running down along his chest, up again to his cheeks and throat and shoulders and pulling the two men inexplicably tightly together against the wall as suddenly House's hand swiftly moved down across Kutner's hip and to his aching, throbbing erection, grabbing hold of it firmly and hard and moving around it in such a slow, painfully pleasant rhythm that Kutner was forced to detach his own desperately wanton mouth from House's due to severe breathing disabilities. Inhaling the other man's scent so very sharply as they stood inhumanly closely together, he then staggered a fast, heavy series of exhales to House's neck, his heart yet again beating loudly and uncontrollably in his ears as the pleasure was becoming far too large to cope with for much longer, blinking briefly and looking down to see House's erection just next to his own and House's painfully moving hand; blinking again and looking back up and into the other man's eyes as he breathed hard and fast to his lips, tremblingly allowing his left hand to slip from House's warm, heaving stomach and down to slide along the length of his warm, hard cock. The sensation was brutal, House's stare piercing Kutner's pleading eyes, _I'll do anything, _jerking each other for seconds of what felt like the longest pre-orgasmic moment Kutner had ever experienced until House kissed him again, ravenously, their hands so very fast as the room appeared to spin around them in Kutner's intoxicated mind, House's lips and tongue and heat and breaths so incredibly addictive that the surge Kutner felt as he were only moments later separated from them yet again was so deep it caused his guts to squirm; however the reason for it happening making up for every trace of disappointment as House spun him around to face the wall he had been leaning against as House had entered not minutes before, Kutner's hands pressing to it, attempting to grasp the tiles for support but not succeeding as House's hand grabbed his left side, snaking along his ribs, clutching his chest and pressing him back to House's front as Kutner felt the other man's free hand separate his legs, water trickling down his spine as his adrenalin rate was high enough for his heart to burst out of his chest at any given moment, House's hard on pressing into him the very moment Kutner's right hand gripped his own member with the loudest cry yet as it echoed around the bathroom walls, House thrusting inside of him, Kutner's hand jerking so quickly it might as well break, a combination of everything pushing him over the final limit as he clutched the wall before him, a couple of fast, hard, screaming moans etching into it as he came so intensely he briefly forgot that it had all been just a fantasy. Panting and trembling, the water just barely hitting his back ran as hotly as it had five minutes ago.

"_God damn," _he breathed, still heaving as he blinked long and hard for a moment or two, drawing his just previously wall-supporting hand over his face as he did so, calming down somewhat before opening his eyes again to the startling light and reality that was his bathroom at eight in the morning and not in fact a dream.

He then reached for the soap and thought briefly, perplexedly of House, goose-pimples evident along his skin.

God damn.


End file.
